


Drabble Dump

by carpfish



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Crack, Daddy Kink, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, M/M, drunk Hanamiya, rarepairs, youkai AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpfish/pseuds/carpfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of drabbles, from askbox requests, memes, or spontaneous writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big words meme

**Author's Note:**

  * For [invisibear](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=invisibear), [sangxanh](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sangxanh).



> old drabbles from an ask box meme.

**Anagapesis**  - The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did. 

Kise is fully aware of his own fickle nature. He’s the type of person that adapts quickly, bores easily, and then moves on to the next excitement. This is evident in his both his club and romantic history. Nobody is more surprised than him when he manages to stick with basketball for five whole years of his middle and high school life. 

What’s even more amazing is that he spends five whole years pining for the same boy that sparked his interest in the sport in the first place. For five years, he texts Aomine when he can, invites him to one-on-one or Maji Burger outings on the weekends, is subsequently rejected, and remains crushing on this same person. For someone whose shortest relationship to date lasted ten minutes, it’s a mightily impressive feat.

It isn’t until ten years after graduating high school that Kise finds out that Aomine hadn’t been completely blind to his affections the entire time. On a sunny autumn afternoon, a pilot and a policeman share a coffee in a streetside cafe, their forms silhouetted by the setting sun that washes over everything, staining the world orange-yellow.

“So back then. Did you… Like me or something?” 

Kise considers the question for a moment, and takes a sip from his coffee, before setting the white cup onto the table with a tap.

“I used to love you. But not anymore.”

A smile comes onto Kise’s face- a smile worlds away from those fake ones on the magazine pages, and more genuine than anything that Aomine had ever seen back when they were both uncertain, cocky teenagers. In that moment, bathed in the sunset, Kise is radiant. 

* * *

**Brontide**  - The low rumbling of distant thunder. 

“I’ll see you next year at Touou.”

The words, meant to be full of encouragement and reassurance, sound more like an omen. Imayoshi’s smile isn’t knife-sharp and vicious anymore, it’s soft, almost pitiful- or is it pitying? Makoto can’t tell. 

It’s springtime, the end of an old year and the beginning of a new one. The cherry blossoms are in bloom, and their fallen flowers drape the entire ground of the school campus in a pink cape. Makoto can see the imprints of Imayoshi’s shoes as the older boy turns around and heads to the graduation ceremony where he will receive his middle school diploma, and leave for bigger and better things. Makoto will most likely follow him next year.

The younger boy clasps his hands into fists and curls them tightly. He draws a breath, and then exhales. He takes note of this moment, and burns it- burns it- into his memory, holding on to a bitterness and anger that will last for many, many years to come.

* * *

**Mamihlapinatapei**  - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move. 

The rickshaw stops in front of the Midorima house, and Kazunari turns around to watch his passenger alight from the ride. Shintarou is graceful as he lopes over the edge of the cart and lands softly on the street with barely a sound. Taped fingers lift his bag up and adjusts the strap around his shoulder.

“Shin-chan.” Shintarou looks up at the sound of his name, and eyes that remind Takao of four-leaved clovers widen just by the smallest fraction.

A breath passes between them, and Kazunari doesn’t need to find the words because he’s been thinking about them the entire ride, and during class, and every day for the past few months. He opens his mouth at the same time that Shintarou does. 

“See you tomorrow.” They’re the wrong words, but this is what spills out from Kazunari’s lips unintentionally, as if they’ve jumped from his tongue and into the open air. 

Shintarou blinks slowly, before his mouth closes, and he nods. They part silently. 

* * *

**Capernoited**  - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

 **Gymnophoria -**  The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you. 

As it turns out, Makoto is excessively nice when inebriated. Shoichi’s seen him when completely smashed, and the ‘bad boy’ is an utter shitshow, laughing at the most mundane statements, smiling as if his face is going to fall off, and clinging onto unprepared standbyers. That’s both humiliating and hilarious to watch.

However, the younger boy is only tipsy, it looks as if there’s been a miraculous shift in his attitude. Makoto’s smile is sweet and innocent, reminiscent of baby puppies and kittens. (and Shoichi must be more drunk than he previously thought because has he honestly just compared Hanamiya Makoto to a puppy?) If not for the fact that he knows perfectly clearly that Makoto had been an absolute terror in middle school, Shoichi would almost say that he becomes like a blushing middle-schooler.

“Senpai, thanks for coming out drinking with me tonight. It was fun,” Makoto laughs- holy shit, it’s an actual laugh, not a sneer or a cackle- and Shoichi nearly reels, because this is the first time that this boy has called him by that title, despite their many years of history. 

Shoichi fights to keep his smile in place as he accompanies the younger boy to his apartment because he doesn’t trust Makoto not to trip and bash his brains out in the stairwell. Not that Makoto’s drank that much, but with the way that he’s acting, anything seems possible. “No problem, Hana-chan.” Its unnerving to not have to expect a punch, kick, or even insult aimed in his direction when in this boy’s presence. Absolutely unnatural.

When he finally shuffles Makoto into his house, the younger boy drops onto the couch, and looks up at Shoichi with wide eyes, and slightly flushed cheeks. “Remember how we shared a locker room in middle school?” He murmurs, and Shoichi nods with trepidation, unsure where this is going. 

Makoto settles into a comfortable position on the couch, and closes his eyes peacefully. 

“I bet you look better naked now than you did back then. You’re very handsome, senpai.”

Shoichi leaves feeling terrified, confused, and exceedingly violated. 

 


	2. AU requests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which kise is an idol and midorima just wants to play his piano; sakurai has PMS and Wakamatsu is a horny bastard; and takao and the GOM die of nosebleed at the moe. three AUs.

**kise x midorima, idol au**

**for lynn (sicacorium)**

**in which kise is an idol and midorima just wants to play his piano**

 

Shintarou’s three-room apartment is too small for a piano; as meticulous as his cleaning is, there’s already barely any space for his bed as it is. His kitchenette is composed only of a stove, a sink, and a toaster oven, while his clothing can only take up half of his closet; the other half is filled with previous lucky items. His text books take up a copious amount of space, and despite all attempts to keep them stored in an organised fashion, they remain stewn in haphazard piles on one side of his bedroom. Even the bathroom is occasionally used as a storage area, and several clothes hangers are kept near the shower curtain. To even think of putting a piano in this already-cramped apartment would be absolutely absurd. 

Luckily for him, there is a public recreation centre near where Shintarou lives, and for a small fee, he books one of the practice rooms on the basement floor for several hours once a week. There, he can have some time away from noisily arguing neighbours and the wind rattling through plastic curtains while he practices his art. 

It appears that fate wishes to deny Shintarou serenity on this particular afternoon, because although the basement level is supposedly soundproof, he can still hear the racket coming from the mob outside. He’d had trouble getting into the recreation centre at all, and had to be let in through the back door by a custodian who’d recognised him after pushing through the crowds of adolescent teenaged girls holding neon signs who had surrounded the venue. Apparently, some celebrity or another was holding a small concert for his fanclub. Shintarou has never been very engaged in pop culture, but he can’t help but hold a none too small measure of disdain and annoyance towards the performer in question for disrupting his weekly practice.

Shintarou’s indignance only increases tenfold when he reaches the practice room, and finds it already in use when he clearly remembers making a reservation. He enters the room without knocking, a gesture that he hopes will effectively convey the level of his displeasure, ready to announce that he’s booked the piano. But before he can politely ask the intruder to leave immediately, Shintarou realises that the man sitting at the piano is, in fact, the idol whose face is plastered on the many posters hanging outside. More importantly, the idol is currently in the middle of playing a piece by Bach which Shintarou recognises. This convinces Shintarou that he isn’t some imbecile who can’t tell Bieber from Beethoven. 

As it appears, Kise Ryouta is not only a talented pianist, but also knows how to play the guitar, drums, violin, saxaphone, and clarinet; as Shintarou understands it, his selling point is more the breadth rather than the depth of his abilities. However, the blonde’s capacity for visual comprehension and reproducing the actions of others is unparalleled, and even Shintarou is grudgingly impressed when the blond manages to mimic his playing of Chopin’s Nocturne almost perfectly. However, that is not his only talent.

By the time that Kise leaves for his concert, he’s somehow managed to coerce Shintarou into exchanging phone numbers with a promise that he’ll come and listen to Shintarou play again sometime. Shintarou is quite sure that the blond’s charismatic smile isn’t the only reason for that. 

* * *

**wakamatsu x sakurai, supernatural beings au.**

**for flightlesscrow.**

**in which sakurai has PMS and Wakamatsu is a horny bastard**

 

Sakurai always gets moody during the full moons, almost as if he’s a woman going through a monthly cycle. Most of the time, he’s timid and shy, apologising for the least of things and even at times when he shouldn’t, to the point where it gets irritating at times and Kousuke almost has an urge to slap a muzzle on him. However, during this time of the month, Kousuke always feels like the zebra being stalked by a lion in those Discovery Channel documentaries, and the thought of Sakurai’s claws and teeth sinking into his haunches always makes Kousuke feel skittish. 

Centaurs are far from defenseless herbivores and have no natural predators, but the way that Sakurai eyes Kousuke is definitely a cause for concerns. Wolves are powerful creatures, and werewolves even moreso, especially when the moon is waxing like this. Kousuke’s read in newspapers that this month’s full moon might be the brightest in the past decade, and he isn’t sure whether to dread or anticipate the coming events. 

Sakurai’s moon phases usually aren’t as violent as some other weres’, but they tend to go either very well or very badly. At their best, the brunet is just a bit more on edge than usual; at their worst, Sakurai becomes highly competitive and highly possessive, usually causing him to piss off people in ways that he regrets later. However, either way results in Sakurai taking charge in bed and that’s always great, so Kousuke can’t find it in him to complain. It’s just rather unnerving when Kousuke trots around the house shirtless (as centaurs are prone to do because why wear a shirt if you’re not wearing pants anyways), and he can practically feel Sakurai’s gaze trailed on his every move. 

It’s also quite distracting when Kousuke gives Sakurai lifts from place to place on his back, and of course Sakurai has to hang on for dear life because Kousuke is fast and trying to saddle or bridle a centaur is a massive deathwish. But somewhere in between the grocery store and their apartment, Sakurai goes from clinging to Kousuke’s shoulders to nibbling on them, and Kousuke can’t tell if it feels arousing or threatening because he isn’t sure if Sakurai wants to eat him up figuratively or literally. It’s probably better for him to focus on the latter, because there is no way he can gallop with a raging boner. 

But in the end, Sakurai puts up with the way that Kousuke acts during mating season and centaur stamina really is something to contend with, so Kousuke decides that letting Sakurai have what he wants for a few days a month is the least that he can do. 

* * *

**midorima x kuroko, as little kids.**

**for iyoten.**

**in which takao and the GOM die of nosebleed at the moe**

 

Shintarou and Tetsuya do not start off on good terms. They’re assigned as reading buddies in first grade, and there is an immediate conflict over whether to choose “My Friend Nigou” or “The Little Carrot”. Both children are equally stubborn, and this results in them giving each other hard stares for the rest of the reading session and not accomplishing anything at all. 

When Shintarou finds out that Tetsuya is an Aquarius, he avoids the other boy for an entire week; this proves to be a difficult feat considering that Tetsuya in the same table group as Shintarou, and they are frequently required to participate in group activities, or even pass in papers together in a pile. Tetsuya can’t help but start getting irritated when Shintarou refuses to look him in the eye or make any sort of bodily contact with him, as if avoiding the plague.  This is particularly concerning when Shintarou’s abnormal behavior is starting to affect the effectiveness of group operations as a whole, and Tetsuya if anything, is a team player. It takes a while to pry the reason for this avoidance from Shintarou, and in the end it appears that the source of his apprehension towards Tetsuya is because Cancers are certainly Not Compatible with Aquariuses, so Shintarou firmly believes that they cannot work together. It takes an entire recess of explanation, coercion, and bribery before Shintarou can be convinced that making eye contact with Tetsuya is not a hazard to his wellbeing. 

The tension between the two parties reaches its climax when Shintarou brings a vanilla shake- his lucky item of the day- to class, and Tetsuya commits a heinous act of theft in taking an unwarranted sip from the beverage. Shintarou is already six years old, and a Big Boy in primary school at that, no longer a kindergarten child; however, this does not keep him from bursting into tears in the middle of the classroom, much to the teachers’ and Tetsuya’s shock. Not having meant to cause his classmate such distress, Tetsuya ends up with tears of apology rolling down his cheeks, and the teachers are left to mediate the situation between to crying children. 

In the end, their teacher decides to come up with a simple solution in order to repair the damaged relations between her two students. After being put in charge of taking care of the class hamsters, Shintarou is very much the doting mama of the critters while Tetsuya is the silent papa that watches from the distance. Not only has the number of classroom arguments and tantrums drastically decreased, but the sight of the two boys sharing the same carrot pillow during nap time is surely nothing short of precious.


	3. young and beautiful (midotaka youkai x human au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so i found this drabble that i barely remember writing from all the way back in January and i thought i’d post it so please enjoy?
> 
> warning(s): character death, mentions of reincarnation, youkai au

From the beginning, it was an unspoken truth that they had both been aware of and accepted. Kitsune lead long lives, while humans do not. For every beautiful falling leaf and every warm winter night, they'd always known that their time together was limited. Though he'd scarcely mention it, Midorima watched as his human companion and lover steadily grew older with the passage of the seasons, at a pace foreign and tragically rapid in comparison to his own person. As decades briefly passed, the dark-haired youth who had started out as an unwelcome intrusion on Midorima's solitude soon matured into a dangerously handsome man before growing into an old veteran. Although Takao's eyes never lost their brightness and his smile never lost its beauty, it pained Midorima to watch his body begin to wither. 

It started subtly, with wounds that wouldn't heal as quickly as before, and aches or pains that became increasingly more frequent. Then an accident slipping on ice rendered Takao unable to walk. His sharp vision began to waver, and the danger of illness grew more and more threatening every winter. Many times Midorima considered that life in the mountains and forests was too rough for Takao at this age, and proposed that he return to the towns and villages of his own kind; to live a longer and more prosperous life than he could here. Takao would just smile and shake his head, saying that there was no way that Shin-chan would survive two days without him, although they both know that it was the opposite way around. In Takao's latter years, Midorima drew upon every scrap of medical knowledge that he could find, whether it be human or youkai remedy, in order to make the remainder of Takao's days as comfortable as he could. 

It's a spring afternoon when Takao passes, and Midorima's been aware of the date for several weeks now. The weather is mild, and Midorima insists on carrying Takao out to a meadow to admire the scenery. Midorima still has his allergies, and sneezes whenever the pollen tickles his nose, which makes Takao laugh. Takao's hair is nearly all white, and the wrinkles on his face show nothing but smiles. He reaches out his worn hands and beckons Midorima close, before running his fingers across each one of the kitsune's features, because his eyes are beginning to fail him. He murmurs that even after all these years, Shin-chan is still the same: so young, and so beautiful.

Takao presses chaste kisses to Midorima's forehead, and then his nose, whispering memories and thanks. "I love you, Shin-chan," he confesses, for what must have been the millionth time, and Midorima returns his love. Finally, as Midorima wraps his arms around Takao's shoulders, Takao places a soft kiss on Midorima's lips. Midorima still remembers the first time they did this, when Takao was young and tasted like honey, and the both of them were drenched in a rainstorm. The kitsune takes his breath, and when Midorima breaks away to rest his head on Takao's chest, Takao is no longer breathing. With his eyes closed and resting on a bed of flowers with a smile, Takao could be sleeping. It's something beautiful. 

Afterwards, Midorima does not pine- he merely hides himself and barely sees or speaks to anyone. Akashi's gaze is coldly sympathetic as he states that they'd known that this would happen, and that consorting with humans was a painful affair. 

Midorima doesn't quite recover until one summer, many years later, when wandering a human town, he spots a young boy with dark hair, bright eyes, and a soul that feels distinctly and eerily familiar.


	4. No number of scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hara with a lot of tattoos and piercings is my kink ok. And I really love Hara x Hanamiya, or Hara x anyone in KD, really. I bet he beds them all. This is so fluffy that it makes my gut turn tho

At first, Hanamiya is a bit taken aback when he sees the scar. 

The skin along Hara's left eye is twisted and knotted, like the bark of a tree. It looks sore and red, as if inflamed with infection, although it's probably existed for as long as he's known Hara, perhaps even longer. It bulges up from the rest of his skin, like a growth, parasite, or tumor. "If I were a shounen character, then there'd probably be a curse or a superpower attached to this scar," Hara jokes drily, lips stretched into a thin smile. 

It shouldn't be any different from the other marks marring Hara's body. In the years since they've graduated from high school, Hara has gained more piercings than he has adult teeth. Metal dangles from his ears like crystals from a chandelier, and the studs on his tongue and beneath his lips have made for some interesting kisses. Hanamiya's seen, and touched, the tattoo of the terrible green-faced oni that spans from Hara's pecs to the sharp jut of his hips. Hanamiya's commented that it makes him look like some sort of yakuza recruit, and that had just made Hara laugh even louder. 

As he runs the pads of his fingers across the rough skin, Hara closes his eyes as if fighting the instinct to flinch. Hanamiya slides his hand down to cup Hara's chin and kisses his brow, reminding him that no number of scars could make him look ugly. It's far too embarrassing for either of them to say in words.


	5. Like a Virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genderbent Hara and Hanamiya go bra shopping. I need more fem!KD in my life, man. Contains the beginnings of sex, possibly a bit nsfw towards the end.

Sometimes, Hanamiya gets tired of the spam of absurdly long, sparkly emojis in her inbox, and caves in to Hara's invitations to go shopping. More often than not, this results in afternoons spent with Hara dragging Makoto from store to store, the former being a paragon of consumerism with the latter cringing at every price tag. Hara does have good taste though, and as loathe as Hanamiya is to admit, she usually does quite like the outfits that Hara picks out for her, even if the necklines tend to swoop a bit lower than Makoto would prefer, and the fit of the skirts is just a bit more on tight side. This shopping trip appears to be a special occasion though, as Hara's managed to coerce Makoto into buying, of all things, lingerie. 

The decor of the store is saturated with pink, and the walls are filled with racks of cotton, lace, and silk. Hara's currently sorting through a set of bras, trying to find samples for Makoto to try on while loudly lamenting the lack of pretty underwear among their team regulars. "The stuff you wear is all so boring, it hurts my delicate maiden's heart to see such beautiful bodies wasted like that!" Hara complains as she examines the label of a blue and white polka-dotted number that Hanamiya wouldn't be caught dead wearing. The way that she chews her bubblegum between sentences reminds Makoto of a cow chewing cud. "I mean, I keep telling Furuhashi to get some cuter underwear, but she never listens. She only ever wears the same three plain colors, white, grey, and black. And 'Zaki's even worse! She's got to be at least an E cup, but she only ever wears sports bras, even off the court. It's a tragedy, I tell you!" Hara shakes her fist at the injustice, flailing the skimpy bra in the air like a war flag, and Makoto can only roll her eyes and pretend that she's listening. The extent of Hara's observations, however, make Hanamiya wonder if the other girl joined the basketball team simply so she could critique her teammates' underwear in the changing rooms. It honestly seems like the kind of thing that Hara would do. 

When Hara seems to be satisfied with the selection of bras that she's chosen, she shoves the bundle of underwear into Makoto's arms and shepherds her off to the changing rooms. Upon further examination of Hara's choices behind the fitting curtain, Hanamiya finds that she approves of the black lace and purple ribbons, and that the bra fits perfectly, better than she ever could have picked herself. Hanamiya wouldn't ever say it out loud, but she mentally commends Hara for knowing her taste in clothing and bra size so well. 

As Makoto models to herself in front of the mirror, she sees Hara's reflection slip in through the entrance of the curtain, pink-glossed lips pulled into an appreciative smile. Hara places her hands on Makoto's hips, right where her pleated uniform skirt hangs low on her hips. "What a sight," She whispers, resting her chin on Hanamiya's shoulder, and Makoto can smell the bubblegum on her breath. 

Hara's hand slides up bare skin of Hanamiya's waist and back to play with the clasp of her new bra, pausing only momentarily to ask for permission. Hanamiya arches a single eyebrow in response. "Here, right now?" She asks, sounding more amused than disapproving. Hara's smile grows wider as she undoes the hooks with one hand and lets straps of the bra slide off Hanamiya's shoulders. 

"Of course. Why would I put lingerie on you if I wasn't planning to take it off?" She replies with a laugh, before slipping her other hand down the front of Hanamiya's skirt. "I'll buy you a new pair of panties later, don't worry."

Makoto rolls her eyes in exasperation, before turning her head to meet Hara in a kiss, and she wonders if anyone would notice the color of Hara's lip gloss all over her lips.


	6. Ranked First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto and Hanamiya first encounters. Written for the BPS character battle challenge.

It's the end of their first semester in Kirisaki Daiichi, and Hanamiya is the effeminate name printed in black ink in the box above Kentarou's name in the exam rankings.

Kentarou is woken from his nap by the sound of frantic classmates rushing into the hallway to check the rankings for their first term examinations. He tugs his eye mask back down and tries hard to go back to sleep, but the outside racket is just too distracting. Kentarou waits for five minutes, and before groaning and sitting up in his seat. Well, he’s going to have to go and confirm the results for himself sooner or later, although he already knows what his score is. For most students, it would be considered arrogance to assume that they had placed first in the exams without even looking at ranking list, but after so many years of following the same trend, Kentarou has a hard time believing that this time will have any different turnout. 

Kentarou spends a bit of time just taking care of his hair, gelling it up so that it doesn’t obscure his field of vision, before standing up and heading out to see the bulletin board. He’s late, so the cluster of bodies has thinned, and he manages to get in front of the first years’ ranking list without much problem. Kentarou heaves a small sigh, before lifting his eyes and scanning through the names, searching for his own at the top and-

Oh. The boy raises an eyebrow and his eyes widen, as he reads the name of the first-ranked student. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he suddenly feels a lot more awake than he has the entire school year. Second place, Seto Kentarou from class 1D. First place, Hanamiya Makoto from class 1B. 

Kentarou's first reaction is to turn to a nearby classmate, and ask who Hanamiya Makoto is. This induces a mixture of open laughter and nervous chuckles before someone helpfully supplies that Hanamiya is the resident genius from class 1-D, a few doors down the corridor, and a boy . Kentarou runs a hand through his hair, and makes a mental note to look this Hanamiya up. Seto nods, slow and deliberate, mentally noting the grimaces on some student's faces at the mention of the name. When he returns to his classroom, sliding his eye mask back over his face, he can't help but ponder the consequences of coming second, and wonders what this Hanamiya person must be like. Absolutely brilliant, probably, a part of his brain supplies. 

Kentarou has never thought of himself as the curious type, but at lunchtime the next day, he finds himself knocking upon the classroom door of 1B, asking if Hanamiya-kun is there. He can't help but be amused at the hush that washes over the other students as soon as he makes his request. A dark-haired boy with thick eyebrows stands from one of the desks in the front row, and smiles surreptitiously at Kentarou, almost patronizing in his sweetness. The other boy makes his way to the door in several short strides, and his gaze is all-knowing, making Kentarou feel like he's played right into a scheme that he won't be able to get out of. 

"You must be Seto Kentarou-kun, right? Nice to meet you," Hanamiya introduces, tilting his chin upward as to look Kentarou in the eye. "I want to teach you to play basketball."   
Kentarou raises an eyebrow, gives a slight incline of his head to indicate that he's listening, and his lips unintentionally slide into a small, amused smile. This Hanamiya-kun is going to be very interesting.


	7. He's a Delicate One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mibuchi-Hanamiya faceoff, as per the rivalry in the BPS character battle. Mibuchi eventually won though sobs

Hanamiya only meets Mibuchi Reo face-to-face once, in the stadium bathroom during the finals of the Winter Cup. He's only ever heard of the other boy, seen his face on the glossy pages of sports magazines first as the Uncrowned King of Rikujou Middle School, and later one of the emperors of Rakuzan. Despite sharing the same unwanted nickname (because really, who wants to be known as uncrowned?), they'd never met before, and never really had a reason to. Just because some sensationalist sports journalist in lack of a real story decided to group them together for kicks didn't mean that they were friends; they didn't even go to the same middle school, for that matter. 

He doesn't recognize Mibuchi. Rather, it's the other way around. As he rounds the corner into the bathroom, he almost bumps into the taller boy, saved from collision only by Mibuchi's fast reflexes and graceful sidestep. "Oops, be careful there," Mibuchi comments, smiling down at him, before his expression changes into one of realization. "Oh, I know you. You must be Hanamiya Makoto-kun."

Despite experiences of previous run-ins, Hanamiya does not have a particular penchant for bathroom conversations. He doesn't plan to drop his pants and take a piss with Mibuchi's eyes fixed on him either. He tilts his chin upwards, resenting the distance between their heights, and meets Mibuchi's gaze, cocking an eyebrow as if to ask, "And what of it?"   
Mibuchi smiles again, this time looking slightly more amused. "How nice to finally have met all of the other Uncrowned Kings," he observes, though he appears to be talking more to himself than to Hanamiya. With that, he wipes hands on a paper towel and tosses it towards the rubbish bin without so much of a glance. It goes in, of course. 

"Well, I have a game to play, and Sei-chan will get cross if I take too long, so it was nice meeting you, Hanamiya-kun." Mibuchi's hand brushes against Hanamiya's shoulder as he exits the bathroom. "Bye bye." 

For the remainder of the game, Hanamiya watches Mibuchi Reo flash his radiant smiles all over the court, the effortless arc of his arms when he raises them to make a shot, and the practiced grace of his barely-there hesitation, pausing long enough just to draw a foul. It's a skill that Hanamiya knows as well, at least in theory, but has never been able to perfect to such a level. By the time the buzzer goes off and the winner is decided, Hanamiya is fuming.

If there's one thing he hates more than honest people like Kiyoshi, then it's people who are just as bad as he is, but hide their corruption so seamlessly. And Hanamiya can't help but almost envy Mibuchi for that.


	8. Dialogue Prompts pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first batch of dialogue prompt drabbles!
> 
> imahana "my winky's gone pointy" / takao "mistakes don't have to be regrets" / kisetaka "it's like he drunk calls me 6 times for me to come over, but can't say hello at lunch" / kiyohana "there's no need for tears, you know" / morimomo "i can't"

**imahana "my winky's gone pointy", mild nsfw** from imayoshishoichi

"Hey, I’m hard, let’s fuck," Makoto says as Shouichi sidles in next to him on their shared bed, and the utter eloquence of his kouhai almost hurts Shouichi’s heart.

"Couldn’t you be at least a bit more enticing in your invitation, Hana-chan?" While he has no intention of turning down Makoto’s offer, Shouichi flashes a smile that’s two parts exasperation and five parts grimace, and it’s clear from the scowl on Makoto’s face that the younger man takes this as a personal offence, as he does so many other things.

"Well what do you want? My winky’s gone pionty, papa, will you fix it for me?" Makoto drawls in a cloying sweet voice while batting his eyelashes mockingly.

Shouichi’s laughter fills the air, but although Makoto’s display should make his erection deflate like a leaking balloon, Shouichi’s half-dismayed to find that the bulge in his shorts is only getting harder, and Makoto notices it just as well as he does.

Makoto screeches, “YOU AND YOUR FUCKING DADDY KINK” when he throws a pillow at Shouichi, and buries his blushing face in the blankets. 

 

 **takao, "mistakes don't have to be regrets"** miaoujones

"You know," Takao drawls, his slurred voice nearly lost in the bustle of the small, wood-walled izakaya, nearly sloshing his beer all over his salary man’s suit. "If I’d known that I’d end up at a desk job in five years, then I wouldn’t have spent all high school playing basketball. Woulda’ studied more, done something more useful. Like, like…" He scrunched his nose at this, a bit disoriented. "Arithmetic. I ‘unno."

Miyaji immediately pulls him into a headlock. “So you regret being on a team with us, do you, ya’ shitty kouhai?”

Takao’s grin, although placed on a older face, is every bit as cheeky as it was in high school. “Naw, senpai. Mistakes don’t have to be regrets.” And despite the tipsy flush on Takao’s cheeks, Ootsubo sees that his hawk eyes are as sharp and lucid as ever.

 

 **kisetaka "it's like he drunk calls me 6 times for me to come over, but can't say hello at lunch"** from koteipenguin

"Didn’t you give him your phone number the other day?" Momoi asks, leaning forward on the coffee shop table as watches Kise openly ogle their studio’s newest photographer with the kind of single-minded lust that Dai-chan normally reserved for his porn magazines. "He hasn’t called you up yet?"

It visibly pains Kise to tear his gaze off the other man, who’s currently sipping a latte halfway across the shop, and the blond model’s lips fold into a bitter pout. “He has. Just never sober.” Momoi raises an inquisitive pink eyebrow, prompting Kise to elaborate. He does so by pulling his phone out and sliding it across the table. As Momoi flips through his recent calls list, Kise heaves another sigh heavy enough to sink the titanic, and props his elbow on the tabletop, leaning his cheek against his hand as he pines yet again. “It’s like he drunk calls me 6 times to come over, but can’t say hello at lunch!” He moans, throwing his hands in the air out of frustration.

Momoi, long accustomed to Kise’s theatrics, just pats his back consolingly. “Well, he’s definitely into you,” she comments encouragingly as she taps away on Kise’s phone. “As if it weren’t obvious enough in the way he looks at you during shoots. You two practically fuck through eye contact!”

Kise just slumps against the table in a spineless puddle, nearly knocking over his cappuccino in the process. “God I want him,” he groans, words muffled by the wood. Momoi simply tosses his phone back to him with a triumphant grin plastered on her face.

"Then you’d better start thanking me. I just helped you ask him out on Saturday. And he’s headed over her right now."

Kise’s head swivels towards the other side of the cafe at fast enough to give himself whiplash, and he spots Takao slipping his phone into his pants pocket, before their gazes meet and the dark-haired photographer flashes a grin. Kise mouths a quick “thank you” to Momoi, and rises out of his seat, turning on full charm as he saunters towards Takao. Momoi cheers him on from behind.

 

 **kiyohana "there's no need for tears, you know"** from anonymous

It’s very hard to look sadistic and intimidating with tears rolling down your cheeks, Hanamiya finds, and he’s livid at himself for crying and showing this weakness, but he can’t stop because he’s just so angry, and this only adds to his frustration, which makes him cry more and… It’s a vicious cycle, really. What irks him more than anything though is the sympathetic, gentle look on Kiyoshi’s face as the other boy pays his head comfortingly (condescendingly) like he would for a lost kitten. “It’s okay, there’s no need for tears, you know” Kiyoshi murmurs soothingly and this makes Hanamiya want to cry even more.

 

 **morimomo "i can't"** from kachimatsu

ver. 1 - 

He watches her struggle to get her bags through the turnstile at the train station, going back to Tokyo where Touou and her life and her obligations and Aomine are, and although it’s less than an hour’s train ride from Kanagawa, the metaphorical distance between them could easily span worlds. “Maybe you could stay next time?” Moriyama asks with a mirthless smile, knowing the answer before he opens his mouth, and Momoi’s wistful, bittersweet, yet thankful expression is almost hidden by the windswept curtain of her luxuriant pink hair. “I can’t.”

ver. 2 - 

Satsuki huffs impatiently, reclining further on the bed so that she rests on her elbows, and stares scrutinizingly at her boyfriend, who is currently a trembling, blushing mess before her (not that she’d mind this if not for the fact that they haven’t even done anything yet!). “You can touch them you know,” she tells him drily, trying to keep the teasing edge out of her voice, but he only wails in response. “I-I can’t! The websites never prepared me for this I, I don’t know what to-” At that point, she loses her patience and grabs his shaking hand before firmly placing it on her breast. “Touch me, Yoshitaka,” she all but orders him, the tone of her voice leaving no room for protest. “I want you to touch me now.”


	9. Dialogue Prompts pt. 2: Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridge: Himuro/Liu for Stephanericher

They would go to town together sometimes, whether it be on a snack run for their seniors (“Here in Japan, senpai can treat the kouhai like slaves if they want to, and nobody can say anything about it. So go grab us some food and be quick about it!” Fukui-senpai would tell Liu, and although neither he nor Himuro knew that to be completely true, they’d humor him anyways.), buying supplies for the club, or simply on leisurely weekend walks, to get away from the noise of the dorms and the pressure of studying. 

Yousen was only a fifteen minute walk from the town center, but there existed a certain stretch of road that ran along the train tracks without any houses or shops around, only the orderly rows of intentionally planted trees, and the rattle of railroad as the trains roared past. They’d often engage in conversation while walking this road, after they’d tired of watching the sun’s slow crawl towards the horizon. Liu would swing the plastic bags in rhythm to his footsteps and his words as he talked, in a way that made Himuro sometimes wonder if Liu knew music. Most of the time they’d talk about basketball, their most obvious of common interests, but sometimes they’d talk about their old homes, and the things they missed. Liu’s expression never changed, no matter what they talked about, but Himuro always prided himself on being able to tell what was in the taller boy’s heart. 

About halfway into town, the train tracks sank down deeper into the ground as the road rose into a hill, and in order to get to the part of town with all the shops, they’d have to cross the footbridge that spanned over the train station. Himuro liked to stay at this bridge, lean over the railing and hang his arms off of it while Liu stood and watched from the side, too tall to lean against the rails comfortably. Especially during the winters, they’d strangers meander on and off the trains, in a manner much quieter and relaxed than any of them had ever seen in their hometowns. 

Often Liu would finally get impatient of waiting, and warn Himuro that if he didn’t stop stalking people soon, then he’d leave him there. Himuro would often laugh, pry himself off the rail and brush off the snow that had stuck to the bottom of his coat sleeves, before moving along. 

Himuro doesn’t know when he stopped being able to hear the music in Liu’s footsteps, or when Liu’s thoughts became as foreign to Himuro as the words he spoke. It was probably the same day that he looked up from the train station and saw Liu crossing the bridge without him, not even turning back to see if he was following along.


End file.
